


What I Remember

by Priestlyislove



Category: Les Misérables - All Media Types
Genre: Angst, First Kiss, M/M, POV First Person, Self-Esteem Issues
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-11
Updated: 2016-02-11
Packaged: 2018-05-19 15:41:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,066
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5972740
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Priestlyislove/pseuds/Priestlyislove
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In his own opinion, Grantaire didn't do a lot with his life. The best part of his life was meeting Enjorlas. At least he could spend those last couple moments with him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	What I Remember

I remember red.

Everything about him was red. The coat he wore, the fire that burned inside him when anyone got him started. He was such a passionate color, the color of love and anger and bravery. I saw him in the sunset and the flowers. I don't think I ever really saw that color before I met him. It was just another shade of this unfortunate world. But then he came in, aflame. He saw the world like I did, but he saw what he could do with it. He was forging his own world. He was dangerous and powerful and so very beautiful.

  
He looked like a strong breeze would break him in two. But his heart was strong. He made other people strong too. He splattered his color with every step like puddles of paint, and spat it with every willful word. But whenever it touched me, it felt like it just dripped right off. I wanted his determination, I wanted to see the beautiful world on fire that he saw. But I was never allowed to. Maybe that's why he thought I was bitter. Maybe I was bitter. I didn't want to be next to him, I wanted to dissolve into him. I didn't want to be me anymore, I wanted to be us.

  
I remember his hands.

  
Everything about his appearance was soft. His hair looked like it was made of golden feathers and his eyes were like the sky on a lazy summer day. His eyelashes were too long and his lips were too kissable. I hated how soft he looked. It made me look harsher. It made people whisper behind his back and it made girls fall in love with him. But his hands were a different story. They were rough and calloused. His fingers were twitchy. None of the girls wanted to hold hands that were like that. I'd walk slow just so he'd grab my hands and pull me along. I liked the feel of his hands. They were so hot all the time, or maybe mine were just cold. I didn't have a fire in my heart like he did to warm me.

  
I remember his eyes.

  
It would be hard to forget them. They were so very blue. But I remember best when they were broken and leaking, the blue seeping out onto his cheeks. I couldn't breathe seeing him like that. He had always been so strong. But here he was, shattered into a hundred pieces. What hurt him so deeply? What doused the fire in his heart long enough for water to fill the space? I don't think he ever told anyone. I don't think anyone else saw him cry. He tried to cover it up, but I had seen too much. I joked it off, but I promised myself he would never be broken like that again. I was not strong like him. But I would throw everything away for him, and that was almost like strength. I wondered if he was trying to protect anyone with his fighting. I wondered if he looked at anyone like I looked at him.

  
I remember kissing him.

I was always a little drunk. I didn't ever want to be sober. But he always had razor sharp focus. He didn't have time for drinking or even just slowing down for a minute. It was respectable, but it made him a bore. He'd rant and rant and rant and I couldn't tell you a single thing he said. I could tell you how he'd cock his head to the right when he was checking to make sure you were still listening, and I could tell you how his sleeves would roll down his arms as he made his grand hand movements. I could tell you how his lips looked very soft and like they'd be nice to touch. But what he was actually saying? I'd never remember.

  
One day he did get drunk. Things were going good enough that the others convinced him. He was a lightweight. He wasn't much different when he was drunk, except he smiled more. I could never forget how good he looked when he smiled. He looked too good, like an avenging angel. The eyes of a sinner shouldn't have even glanced upon him. But I couldn't look away. The sky was red and the air was cool enough to make us shiver, but not enough to make us go back inside. It was just us. His hand was on mine. Did he even realize? Did he know how hard my heart was beating? My heart had never beat that fast. My heart had never been on fire before. I leaned in. He let his eyelashes flutter close. My lips touched his. He tasted like peaches and smoke. He set my mind ablaze. For once, I was red.

  
And I remember when we finally became one.

  
He was scared but he acted like he was still brave. His fire was hardly a spark. He lived among everyone yet now he was going to die alone. My last chance to protect him. It was hopeless. But if he was in my position, he wouldn't have cared. The odds had never been in his favor. I sauntered up to him, pretending I was fearless too. They watched us like stone statues. Couldn't they see he was loved? Didn't they realize they were killing a boy who still had so much left to give this undeserving world? I laced my fingers between his. His eyes met mine. He had stopped being selfless for just a moment, just long enough to silently thank me. I stood in front of him, my back to the vultures who wanted to tear us apart. If I could be his shield, if I could save him for just one more second, it would be enough. I couldn't keep the air in his lungs forever, but just another moment. That was all I needed. _Bang!_ What a sickly sound. The blood flowered out of my chest. Every part of me was on fire. It had gone straight through me and into him. Inside him was my blood, in his hand was mine. In my heart, there he was. I could only hope I was in his. Then we crumpled to the floor. Red. Red. Red.

  
I don't remember anything else.


End file.
